Harry Potter and the Missing Socks
by Evra7
Summary: When Harry Potter went to get dressed for the day, he encountered a problem. He had no socks.


**Author's Note: Just a cute little story I thought up while in history class.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.**

Harry Potter scratched his head. '_Did I forget to do the laundry?'_ he wondered to himself. The drawer was empty, but surely he would have noticed before now if he needed to clean his clothes. He scratched his head once again. "Hmm," he said.

He left the room and emptied his hamper, searching for the lost clothing. There were none there. He _did _have a habit of losing his socks when out and about, but this was ridiculous. Someone couldn't just lose all those socks without noticing.

He once again scratched his head, and resolved to ask Hermione if she had found any socks recently in the laundry that weren't Ron-sized.

He threw some floo powder in the fireplace. "The Weasel Den!" Truthfully, he had jokingly named it thus when Ron hadn't been looking at the Ministry. Since then, it had stayed that way. Ron grudgingly tolerated it, and only because the Ministry would not allow the name to be changed.

**HPATMS**

Hermione glimpsed her fireplace glowing green, and soon saw the face that belonged to her best friend of nine years staring at her.

"Hello Harry," she greeted.

"Hello Hermione. Say, can I come through?"

"Sure," she said. She wondered what he had to talk to her about.

Harry's head disappeared and a few seconds later he was standing in her living room.

"Hermione," Harry began. "Have you seen my socks?"

"Your… socks?" she asked in puzzlement. Why would she have seen his socks?

"Yes, you know. The things I put on my feet before I put on shoes."

"I know what socks are, Harry. But why would I have seen your socks?"

Harry furrowed his brow. If she hadn't seen his socks, where could they be?

"Harry?" she asked, wanting an answer now that he had gotten her curious.

"My sock drawer is completely empty. I looked in my hamper, but all I found were boxers and robes. And usually, I always end up somehow losing a sock whenever I am over."

Hermione's face finally shone in understanding as a pop was heard throughout the flat.

"Ron's home!" Hermione grinned.

"What's for dinner, 'Mione?" Ron asked as he entered the living room.

Hermione shook her head. "Is that all you ever think about? Food?"

"There's something else I think about quite a lot, if you know what I mean," he waggled his eyebrows at her.

Harry coughed. Ron looked in his direction. "Oh. Hey, mate."

"Hey, Ron. Have you seen my socks?"

"Your… socks?" Ron asked.

"Yes… you know. The things I put on my feet before I put on my shoes."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He and I have already been over this. Harry's socks are missing. He wanted to know if we'd found any of his."

Ron shook his head. "No, but you may want to check the Burrow."

"The Burrow?" Harry asked.

"Yes… you know. The place where my parents live," Ron said, smirking.

"Right… I know what the Burrow is. Why would my socks be there?"

Ron shrugged. Hermione shrugged. They both looked at each other. They shrugged once again.

"Right…" Harry said. "I'm going to check for my socks at the Burrow."

He grabbed a handful of floo powder and pronounced, "The Burrow!"

Ron and Hermione began to laugh uncontrollably as soon as he left.

**HPATMS**

The fire glowed green, and out of the fireplace stepped Harry Potter. "Mrs. Weasley?" he called.

"In here, Harry dear."

Harry walked into the kitchen. "Hi, Mrs. Weasley," he said.

"Hello Harry."

"Mrs. Weasley," he began… "have you seen my socks?"

"Your… socks?" she asked.

"Yes… My socks, Mrs. Weasley."

"I can't say that I have dear. Why?"

"All of my socks are missing," he said.

"Did you check your hamper?" she asked.

He nodded. "And Ron and Hermione's flat?"

He nodded again. "Hmm," she said, scratching her head.

"I know! I have thought of every plausible place!" he said.

"Why don't you check with Fred and George?" she asked.

"Why would Fred and George have my socks?" he asked.

Mrs. Weasley looked at him and shrugged. She smiled to herself, and shrugged again.

"Alright. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I suppose I will go ask Fred and George about my socks."

He got up and hugged her before moving out of the room and to the fireplace.

Once she saw that the fireplace was normal colored again, she began to giggle.

**HPATMS**

The fireplace shouted "Potter the Sotter is here!"

Fred and George looked up. They entered the living room, where they found a very confused looking Harry Potter.

"Hello, Harry. To what," began Fred.

"Do we owe this pleasure?" finished George.

"Have you seen my socks?"

"Your…"

"Socks?"

Even the twins were puzzled.

"Yes… you know."

"No, we…"

"Don't know."

"The things I put on my feet before I put my shoes on," Harry said irritated.

"Why would your socks be here?" George asked.

Harry shrugged. "Your mum sent me here when I asked her if she knew where my socks could be."

"Hmm," Fred said, scratching his head.

"Have you checked Percy's?"

"Why would Percy have my socks?" he asked.

Fred shrugged. George shrugged. Harry groaned.

He waved a goodbye and left through the floo system.

As soon as he left, Fred let out a girlish giggle, and George soon followed.

**HPATMS**

Percy Weasley looked up from his report on cauldron side thickness. Harry Potter was standing in his living room. "Er, hello, Mr. Potter."

"Hey. Say, Percy, have you seen my socks?"

"Why would _your _socks be here, at _my house?"_

Harry shrugged. "That's what I would like to know."

"Perhaps you should try Ginevra's flat?"

Harry did not even bother questioning Percy's suggestion. He would just shrug, and then shrug again.

"Thanks, Percy. See you."

As soon as Harry left, Percy did not laugh uncontrollably or giggle. Instead, he just huffed and dipped his quill in the ink.

**HPATMS**

Harry arrived at Ginny's flat. "Ginny?" he called, butterflies in his stomach. He had not spoken to Ginny for a while. Not since she had been traded from their Quidditch team to another.

No answer came, so for the first time in about an hour, he allowed himself to take a seat on her sofa.

He sat there until his eyes began to droop. Soon enough, he knew nothing but sweet sleep. That is, until he heard his name being called. "Harry?" asked a questioning voice.

He awoke, his glasses askew. "Hello, Ginny."

"Harry, what are you doing on my couch?"

"Sleeping," he said, straightening his glasses.

She rolled her eyes. "I meant… what are you doing in my flat?"

"Looking for my socks. Ginny, have you seen my socks?"

Ginny froze, but did not shrug as all of the other Weasley's had done.

"Your… socks?"

"Yes. You know… Socks."

"I'm afraid that I haven't seen your socks, Harry."

"Of course, not. Do you have any suggestions as to where I should search for my socks?"

Ginny shrugged and then shook her head.

"Right. Well, I guess I'll go borrow a pair of Ron's for the day," he said, gesturing towards his bare feet.

She stifled a grin.

He waved to her as he left.

She giggled as soon as he was out of hearing.

**HPATMS**

Harry entered Ron and Hermione's flat. "Just got back from Ginny's," he told them.

"Good. Now you can stop asking everyone about your socks," Ron said.

"What do you mean, Ron?"

Ron's eyes widened. He then sighed and said, "Ginny's been nicking your socks since we were thirteen."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Look, mate. Forget I said anything."

Harry shook his head. "I cannot believe this!"

He went back through the fireplace.

**HPATMS**

Ginny Weasley looked up from cleaning her Quidditch boots as the fire glowed green.

"Ginny Weasley!" A very irritable Harry Potter shouted.

"Harry Potter!" she said.

"You have my socks!"

"Why would I have your socks?" she asked.

"Well, according to Ron, you've been stealing them since you were twelve."

Ginny smiled. "They're nice socks, Harry," she said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, can I just have my socks back?"

"Finders are keepers, losers are weepers."

Harry groaned. "My socks, Ginny!"

"Why can't you buy new ones?" she asked.

Harry froze. Why hadn't he thought of purchasing new socks?

Ginny grinned. "Fine. But I'll only give you a weeks worth. I like wearing them, too."

Harry rolled his eyes and followed her to her bedroom. This was the first time he'd been in Ginny's room. Yet, it was something so completely Ginny.

There was a calendar on the wall, with a picture of their former team smiling and waving back at him. The picture Ginny winked at him, and Harry blinked. He didn't remember her doing that in the pictures.

"Here is a weeks worth of socks, Harry."

Harry took them from her. They were softer than they had been before. He thought that maybe he would let Ginny keep most of his socks, just so they would be kept in good condition.

"Thanks for giving me back my socks, Gin."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Of course, Harry."

He couldn't help smiling back at her.

He put on a pair of socks right then, happy for his feet to be encased in soft warmth.

He began to walk out of the room, when he felt a breeze on his feet. He looked down, and the socks were gone.

"Ginny!" Harry turned towards her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Don't play innocent with me, Weasley," he said.

"What if I'm not playing, Potter?" she asked.

"I know you just charmed my socks off! Why do you want my socks?"

"Because Harry, they're yours."

"Because they're mine?"

"Yes, Harry."

She stared up into his eyes, and he noted that hers were very pretty. He began to lean down.

She pushed herself up on her tip-toes. And then, they kissed.

The world disappeared, and all thoughts of the fact that she was a sock thief disappeared.


End file.
